


Bound

by thesilverdoe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fólkvangr, Human Sacrifice, Humor, Magic, Non-Graphic Violence, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Romance, Slow Burn, somewhere in between infinity war and endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-07-26 11:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20025283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesilverdoe/pseuds/thesilverdoe
Summary: A year has passed since the Snap. As you look to find a fresh start in life, you end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. A small cult dedicated to the newly revitalized Norse religion chooses you as a sacrifice with the belief that this will give Thor and the other gods the strength to undo what Thanos has done. What you don't know is that human sacrifices come with a powerful magic — those who are sacrificed become linked with the god they have been given to.It's been a millennia since a human was sacrificed to one of the gods. You've been bound to Loki.





	1. Chapter 1

The car rumbled silently down the road. Items in the trunk bounced around, hitting one another as you drove over another bump that had probably been occupying this road for years. The silence of the car bored you, so you turned on the radio, searching for any station you could find. You couldn’t be picky, half of the stations went dead nearly a year ago. 

Dark had fallen several hours before, and you began to feel a heaviness with each blink of your eyes. Your phone told you the nearest motel or inn was another thirty miles away and you were unsure if you could make it without falling asleep behind the wheel. Another mile closer to your destination and you had to jerk the vehicle away from drifting off the road and into the dirt ditch off to the side. Okay, fine, you thought. You pulled off to the side of the road, shut the car off and adjusted the seat back to lie down. You fell asleep as soon as you shut your eyes, dreaming of finally arriving to your destination which was still about a day’s trip away. You were headed across the country to a small town you had never heard of.

The Snap had taken nearly everything from you. Almost all of your family had been wiped out, forcing you to watch as they turned grey and collapsed into a pile of dust, scattering to the wind and disappearing as if they never existed. Many of your friends had been dusted, too. The worst part of it was that they all went at once; there was no warning, no preparation. All the deaths of all your loved ones hit at once. Not even a proper funeral could be held for the billions of lives taken just like that.

Granted, the Snap ruined the lives of everyone, but there was nothing for you at home any longer. It held too many painful memories. You wanted to start somewhere new, and that’s how you met a man online who told you of a town being built for the purpose of people wanting to start again and try to move on from their old lives. You honestly didn’t know what you’d gotten yourself into; up and leaving so suddenly, but there was nothing at home to hold you back. Besides, you finally got to take your first real road trip, even if it wasn’t spent in the company of friends or family.

When you woke up, the slightest hint of light on the horizon indicated that dawn was soon approaching. You squinted at your phone’s screen as your eyes adjusted to its brightness. Five hours of sleep, give or take. You wiped the sand from your eyes and started the car up again. At the nearest sight of a restaurant or store you would stop for breakfast.

You stopped at the next town, the one you would have spent the night in a motel instead of your car. Had it not been for the little girl chasing after her dog down the street, you were ready to write it off as just another ghost town and continued on. You pulled your car in front of a diner with no sign and walked in. A bell chimed when you pushed the door open, signaling the owner of a customer’s presence. The diner had that homey feeling all small town restaurants have. Up on the walls hung paintings of landscapes: mountains, rivers, animals in the woods, as well as photos of families fishing or having picnics. You also noticed art resembling that of Vikings and Norse mythology. Hung above one booth was a picture of Thor. Not an old painting or interpretation of mythological Thor, but a picture of real life, Avengers-member Thor.

You began to wonder about the Norse memorabilia when a woman with kind eyes and short, curly brown hair welcomed you, offering you a menu and a seat.

“Not many people drop by here,” the woman said after she served you your coffee. “Most folks think our town is abandoned and move on to the next.”

“That’s what I thought too, until I saw a little girl chasing her dog,” you replied after taking a sip.

“Little girl? Oh, you must mean Isabelle. That girl gets into all sorts of trouble.”

The woman stood up, shortly returning with the biscuit, butter, and two sausages you had ordered. It was all you were in the mood for. She set the plates and silverware down and sat in the booth across from you.

“So where are you headed? Or where are you from?”

“I’m going to a little town a day’s trip north of here,” you answered. You spread butter onto the biscuits. “I’ve never been, but I guess I needed a change in my life. Home is too painful.”

The woman’s expression changed from kind to sad. “Yes, the dusting hit us pretty hard too. I lost my husband and granddaughter because of it. We were a small town of three hundred, now we’re half that, and some of the younger ones left to do what you’re doing, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, I never got your name,” you said. “I’m ___.”

“I’m Sherrie Freberg,” she responded with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Freberg. That’s Swedish, or Norwegian, right?”

“Swedish, yes.”

“I actually noticed when I first walked in the Nordic paintings, and that picture of Thor over there,” you pointed over to the other side of the diner, the booth with the picture of him near the diner’s entrance.

“Yes, this town is -- was filled with mostly inhabitants from Nordic countries. The Norse religion in our town had a revival back in 2012 when our gods returned to us.”

“Wow,” you said with fascination. “You guys starting following Norse mythology again? That’s really cool.”

Sherrie’s smile became a frown. “It’s not mythology.”

You leaned back in your seat. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“It’s okay.” Her face did not give an indication that it was, though. “We pray to the gods often that they will reverse the Snap. We have faith that they will. Thor can, at least. We’ve all seen what he can do.”

You couldn’t help but think about the fact that Thor had failed the first time. Your cynicism had grown worse ever since Thanos, but you kept your mouth shut. It was nice that this woman still had faith in something.

“So, you worship Loki, too? The guy who attacked Earth seven years ago?”

The frown did not budge. “Yes. We do.”

Okay, another nerve hit. You hadn’t finished your biscuit, but you started to wonder if it was best to pay and get moving. Sherrie excused herself. You took one last bite of breakfast and sip of your coffee and made your way to the front with your bill. There was chatter from the kitchen that you couldn’t quite make out, Sherrie’s voice among them. Sherrie came up to the register, taking your cash, and handed your change back.

“I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Sherrie gave no response, and with that you exited the diner. You stopped outside the doors as you rummaged around in your purse for your car keys, gasping when you looked up to see that it was no longer there. It was locked when you had left it. You always locked your car. You sprinted to the parking space your car should have been occupying, stopping at the sight of broken glass glinting off the asphalt. How the hell did you not hear someone breaking into it while you were inside?

Though you ended on a sour note with Sherrie, you ran back to the diner. Maybe she would help -- contact the local police or something. Before you could turn around, a hand was on your shoulder; you looked up and a man with a thick beard and a frightening look on his face hovered over you. You hadn’t even heard him approach. His grip on your shoulder tightened and it was beginning to hurt. Fear and adrenaline flooded your body.

You shouted, twisting your body away from the man, but he caught your forearm before you could wriggle free. 

“Get off of me!” you screamed, tugging against his grip to no avail. He pulled you toward the other car in the parking lot, a black pickup truck, and forced you inside. You screamed for help, calling out Sherrie’s name. She had to have heard you, the diner was right there and you were screaming at the top of your lungs. But she did not run out, and you did not see anyone nearby to come to your aid. Just before he shoved you into the back of his truck he pulled a plastic ziptie out of his pocket and bound your wrists together.

As the man drove, you banged on the windows, hoping to god that the truck would pass by someone on the street, or another car, and they would see you and know to call the police. It was a small town, but surely someone would see the truck?

The man made an angry growl.

“Shut your mouth already, your screaming is pissing me off!”

You leaned forward in your seat. “Where are you taking me? Let me out!”

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear another sound out of you.”

The drive was a short one, it couldn’t have been longer than ten minutes. The kidnapper stopped the car in a clearing in a patch of trees, away from the main road of the town, and certainly away from anywhere someone might hear you. Or so you thought.

Looking through the windshield of the car; ahead was gathered a large group of people conversing, and further past them something large and brown that you could not make out. Some kind of wood pile? It was hard to tell, it seemed like the whole town of one hundred and fifty was gathered here in this spot.

“What’s happening?” you asked. “Where am I?”

“Time for some results.”

“What?”

He put the truck in park and climbed out to open the door to the back, yanking you out harshly, almost causing you to fall to the ground as he did so. You were brought toward the crowd of people, who eyed you as if they knew you would be here.

“You really think she’ll make them happy?” a man of about fifty asked.

“Wh -”

“She’s a young girl, she’ll do fine,” your kidnapper said, cutting you off. He shoved you. You stumbled forward. “Just tie her up and let’s get this over with.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “What are you talking about? What are you going to do to me?” You were led forward to the pile of wood, and now that the crowd was dispersed, you could clearly see that it was meant for a bonfire. The tears began to flow and soon turned into sobs. Was this some kind of cult? Were they really going to burn you alive?

You screamed and fought as best you could despite not having the help of your hands to punch or shove your way out. The struggling made it harder for them to bring you closer, but ultimately it prolonged what you feared. You dragged your feet against the dirt; kicking, screaming, shifting your weight to make it as difficult as possible for these lunatics to do anything with you. Maybe if you screamed loud enough someone would come to your rescue.

“Please, God…”

The four men dragging you to the bonfire spit and cursed at you, while the other townspeople followed behind and shouted praises to various Norse gods. When the men finally got you to the pole erect in the middle of the bonfire, they held your arms and legs in place while one unraveled a rope. Your strength was withering from the thrashing and fighting back, yet you used every ounce of adrenaline you could muster because you weren’t going to die. Not like this. 

They had you tied up now, hands already bound by the ziptie and further secured by the rope, and ankles bound just as tightly. You tried to free yourself with what pathetic mobility you had, causing you pain as the rope chafed against your skin. You let out a shriek of exhaustion and fear at the men and the mob who were about to commit this horrible act.

“Why are you doing this?” you shouted, your voice hoarse.

Your kidnapper stepped forward. “We have all suffered terrible losses since Thanos reigned his terror on the universe. If we sacrifice you to the gods, your contribution will give them the strength they need to win once and for all.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” you screamed. You writhed against your bonds, putting all your hope in the adrenaline coursing through you that it could give you the strength to break out.

“We have prayed to Thor, but it’s not enough. It’s time to pay tribute to Loki as well. When he sees our devotion to him, the trickster will join Thor and help him to undo Thanos’ atrocities.”

Hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks, thick enough to blur your vision. One of the men who tied you up splashed gasoline onto the wood. Some of it lapped your shoes. It was happening, oh god, it was really happening. You were about to be burnt alive as a sacrifice in the fucking twenty-first century.

Shouting and chanting from the mob flooded your ears. They were gathered around now in a horrifying freakshow. Names of several gods were mentioned and praised, but most prominently the name Loki was repeated over and over. You shouted to the crowd below you, pleading with them to let you go. They were so caught up in their ritual that you weren’t even sure if they could hear you. 

Your eyes widened as you watched a match being lit. It felt like an eternity between the time it fell from the man’s fingers and hit the pile of wood. In an instant, flames rose and whooshed around you. You screamed, the chanting became louder, fiercer. You shut your eyes as the heat grew more unbearable by the second. The flames began to lick at you. You were on fire. You choked on the thick black smoke that caused your nose and eyes to run more than they already were. You were being burnt alive. The burning had barely even begun but it was the most agonizing feeling you had ever experienced, and it was going to be your last.

There was nothing left to do but embrace what was to come and hope it would end soon.

But maybe your pleas did reach something or someone, because the pain that would only get worse ceased. The fear, the mob, the fire vanished all at once. 

Then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where some Norse mythology comes into play

You woke and your vision was met with a pink and orange sky. Stars were scattered all throughout the heavens, your focus flitted about the celestial bodies glittering above you. For an indeterminable amount of time, there was nothing else in the universe, just the heavens above. Later you would come to realize you were laid in a field. Grass poked at the back of your head through your hair, at your arms, and through your clothes. You turned your head to the side, the dark green a relief to your sight in contrast to the bright of the warm colors above. No thoughts crossed your mind except for the sea of grass surrounding you. It was only when more time passed when complex thoughts began to enter your head. Why were you here? You did not remember coming to this place. Was this a dream?

These thoughts mildly interested you, but not enough to break you away from your trance. It was only when you heard something rustling nearby that you finally sat up. A young, blonde woman in flowing blue robes approached you. She knelt down beside you, lightly caressing your cheek as she examined you. She tilted her head, roving her eyes up and down you. Wordlessly, she held out a hand. You took it and she helped you to your feet.

The thoughts in your head began to solidify, and for the first time since coming here, you began to feel a sense of self again.

“Where am I?”

The woman guiding you spoke in a soothing voice that didn’t sound quite real. Maybe this was a dream. “In my realm. Let me get you to the hall so you can rest.”

You nodded not out of understanding or really any reason at all other than the fact that you still were not all there. You winced, stopping in your tracks as a pain in your head emerged suddenly. It felt like an object collided with your head, hard and fast. The woman said something, but your descending unconsciousness could not make the words into anything coherent. In a moment, everything disappeared as it had the first time.

When you woke again, you’d been placed in a bed and you already felt more sober than you’d been when you awoke in the grass. Above you was not a sunset sky but a marble ceiling. The pain in your head was still throbbing but not as intense as the first episode. The beautiful woman from before stood over you with a smile, her blue eyes twinkling. Her silk blonde hair flowed down to her waist.

“Now she awakens,” her voice was still as dreamlike. So you didn’t dream her, unless this was some freaky Inception stuff happening to you.

“I don’t…”

“I’m happy to answer any questions you have, but you still look very weak. I don’t know how good an idea talking is.”

“My head still hurts,” you said, touching your forehead lightly. Your eyelids were heavy and hurt when you blinked.

The woman’s expression changed to that of despondency. “I’ve never had the need for healing in my realm before..” She looked away, clearly in thought, then stood up. “Perhaps I should get Loki.”

“Who?” you asked, but she had already left the room. You wanted to follow her out of fear of being alone in an unknown place but pushed it aside and waited for her return.

Not much time passed before she returned with a man with jet black hair. He seemed familiar. A few seconds of analyzing his face and it came to you. 

A noise of panic escaped your throat. In a flash you were out of your bed, backed up against the wall in a weak attempt to put as much distance as you could from him. The woman ran to you, placing her hands on your shoulders.

“Loki will not harm you,” she assured. “He can heal you if you will let him.”

Loki spoke: “If she does not want me to heal her, I will use my talents on something worth my time, Freya.”

The woman whose name was apparently Freya snapped her head in Loki’s direction, her dreamlike tone dissolved. “You will be quiet and you will heal her.”

Loki did not speak another word but did roll his eyes. Freya turned her attention back to you.

“Loki cannot hurt you, not while you are in my realm, under my protection. Even if he could, he would have no reason to.”

You looked between her assuring eyes and his indifferent ones. Finally, you nodded. Moving the blanket to the side, you climbed back into your bed and re-covered yourself. Freya stepped back and Loki approached you. He kneeled down next to your bed and stretched his right hand out. It hovered over you.

When Loki entered the room, an odd feeling appeared within you. It wasn’t the fear of when you recognized him, you knew that, because you felt it in those few seconds before as he stood in the doorway. You could only describe the feeling as a tug in your chest. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable even. Distracting if anything. You would have chalked it up to being part of your condition, whatever that might be, but when Loki knelt by you the tug grew tighter. It was harder to ignore now that he was right beside you, and not only that, it became harder to ignore him. You feared that whatever magic he was performing with his fingers was malicious in nature.

Magic or not, you gave into the indescribable feeling that you wanted to look at him. So you did.

It was hard to forget the face of the man who tried to take over your planet. You remembered images of him plastered all over the news even months after the fact. His hair was as black as you remembered; dark as a raven, dark as the man it belonged to. It was the first thing that grabbed your attention then and the first thing you noticed now because of the contrast it offered against his pale skin. However, his hair was longer than it was back during the attack on New York and flowing more naturally. 

The second thing was his eyes. You had never seen this striking emerald in somebody’s eyes before. His hair was what grabbed your attention, but his eyes were what kept it. You were reminded of the tug in your chest again each time his eyes settled on you.

Maybe he was bewitching you after all.

The more you made eye contact, the less it became a passing glance on his part. Loki was piecing you together. When your eyes met again, Loki narrowed his. 

“What are you doing?” 

His sudden accusation startled you. “What?”

Loki was about to speak again. Whatever it was, he waved it off. “Nothing.”

Freya stepped forward. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, a side effect of one of the spells I practiced before coming here.”

The god was in full focus as he returned to the task at hand and examined you. His eyebrows furrowed. Loki looked at you with intrigue, then turned his attention to Freya. “She’s not dead.”

“Dead? Of course I’m not dead. I could have told you that.”

“Interesting, because you’re supposed to be.”

You blinked as you tried to process this new information. Of course you weren’t dead. If you were dead — or supposed to be — you would remember it. Or maybe not, and the headache had something to do with it.

“If I’m supposed to be dead, does that mean you’re dead?”

You stared at the man in front of you. He was pale, sure, but not pale enough to be a ghost. Would your hand pass through Loki if you tried to touch him?

Loki sighed, retreating his hand slightly. “Yes, of course I’m dead.”

“She doesn’t understand, Loki,” Freya said.

“Then explain to her.”

Freya shot him a glare. 

“You are a far way from home, in my realm,” she explained.

“And what is ‘your’ realm?” you asked.

“Folkvangr.” With a gesture of her hand, a sphere of light appeared, and within it conjured the image of an angelic palace-like building surrounded by a field large enough to be mistaken for an ocean. Her realm looked like scenery in a fairytale.

“Half of all warriors who die in combat come here,” Freya continued. “The other half go to Valhalla, and the rest who die under regular circumstances are sent to Helheim.”

“So, I died in battle?” You frowned as soon as the question left your lips. 

Loki shook his head. Freya spoke again: “The last warrior who arrived to my realm was hundreds of years ago, when the Norse religion was strong. Judging by the fact these names aren’t familiar to you, you don’t follow the religion. And I mean no disrespect by this, but you don’t seem like someone who fought in a great battle either.”

You snorted. “None taken, so how in the world did I get here? I’m trying to remember but I can’t..”

“We don’t know,” Loki interjected. “And I would appreciate it if everyone would keep quiet so I can heal her. I have more important things to attend.”

“Like what, exactly?” Freya crossed her arms.

Loki glared right back at her. The room fell silent, however. His hand hovered next to your head and a chartreuse light appeared from his palm. The light moved from his palm and billowed around your head like mist. You’d heard before that Loki could perform magic, that he casted illusions and such to trick his enemies. And here it was, magic, right before your very eyes. You would have appreciated it more if the circumstances didn’t concern an intergalactic tyrant and the fact that you were in an afterlife where you weren’t dead.

As Loki healed you, you felt a cool, soothing feeling wash over you. The pain in your head passed. You felt yourself again, except that tug in your chest was still there. 

“Thank you,” you said shyly.

The green magic disappeared as quickly as Loki had conjured it. He stood up and left the room without acknowledging you nor Freya, you furrowed an eyebrow as you watched him leave.

“Don’t pay attention to him, that’s just how he is.”

“I’m not worried,” you said. “In fact, the less I see of him, the better.”

“You must be famished, can I get you anything?”

Her question triggered your stomach to growl. With all the excitement and confusion, food hadn’t even crossed your mind. In fact, you couldn’t recall the last thing you ate before arriving here.

“You don’t have pizza here, do you? I could really go for some pizza.”

Freya’s eyes had a blank look in them as you asked. “Is that an Earth cuisine?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You tried not to smile at pizza being referred to as cuisine.

Freya ended up conjuring several different plates of food for you to choose from. Once the sight and, oh god, the smell of the food roused your senses you went for the first tray you could get your hands on, which was a bowl of hot soup.

As you ate with the tray of soup on your lap, Freya seated herself at the edge of the bed next to you.

“So you can’t recall how you got here at all?” she asked as you blew on a spoonful to cool it down. It was a light orange and had a creamy taste to it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t from Earth; the flavor was delicious but foreign to your taste buds.

“No, the last thing I remember is driving. After that, it’s fuzzy. You know your realm better than I do, do you have any theories of how I could’ve gotten here?”

She shook her head. “Those who enter my realm either have deceased or receive express permission from me to enter, which I haven’t done in centuries. I think for now we have to hope you regain your memory soon. I’m truly at a loss as to how you might have arrived here.”

You stirred the spoon around in the bowl. “And Loki? He’s not a psychopath anymore?”

Freya sighed. “I knew Loki since he was a boy. Thor, too. He was a bright child, mischievous, but not evil by any means. I was disturbed when I heard that he tried to take over your planet. As far as I know, he’s since given up these grandeur ideas to rule Earth, but he’s still a troubled soul.”

“How did he die to get here?”

“You’ll have to ask him that.” She smiled and patted the bed. “I’ll let you eat and get your strength back. We can talk more tomorrow.” She closed the door behind her when exiting the room.

Even though you felt much better now, you wanted to see what Folkvangr had to offer. Not to mention, you still had a million questions that popped up by the minute. However, despite beginning to get tired of this bed you decided to trust the word of a goddess.

As you rested, you admired the room you had been given. The room was at least three times the size of yours on Earth, not to mention your large four poster bed that put your old one to shame. The decorations and architecture looked exactly like an exhibit you would see in a museum, and you marveled at various paintings of flora and fauna indigenous to Folkvangr. The swirled gold patterns and runes on the walls seemed to be actual gold. It was easy to believe that you were in the afterlife, and you felt as pampered as a Disney princess. You had no idea how old Freya, this building, or her realm was, but it had to be thousands of years old and yet there was not a single crack in the walls or a hint of fading colors.

Though you felt fine, sleep managed to overcome you quickly in a bed where the mattress and pillows could be made of clouds for all you knew. Just before you drifted off, you realized that the tug faded to little more than a dull weight in your chest. You didn’t get a chance to think too hard about it. Perhaps you did need rest as Freya predicted. As you slept for the next few hours, you dreamt of an endlessly grassy field, Freya and her unbelievable beauty, and a certain trickster god with black hair and green eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post chapter three earlier than this, but I came down with a cold (that I'm still getting over) and the last thing I wanted to do was sit in front of a computer screen with a headache. Anyway, new chapter! Hope you enjoy.

When you woke again, the lighting from outside had changed but what time of day it was on Folkvangr, you had no clue. You would hazard a guess it was afternoon right now based on what afternoon looks like on Earth. You had no idea how time worked here, or did time exist at all once someone died?

Freya was not by your side when you woke this time. Were you allowed to leave, or would you get in trouble for exploring the halls on your own? You decided you would risk getting in trouble if it meant you could at least walk around; all you had been doing was sitting around feeling useless. 

Pulling the blankets aside, you swung your feet over the side of the bed and made your way to the window which you had not had a chance to look through yet. Wherever you were in the palace, you were on the third or fourth floor, at least. The view looked down to a courtyard below filled with finely pruned shrubs and flowers, beyond the courtyard walls was the field of grass you awoke in that seemed to stretch as far as the sea. The green touched the horizon beyond. If anything was past that, there was no way of knowing from where you stood.

You wondered about the sky, why it was orange and pink. It was a marvelous sight, and was as if Folkvangr was experiencing perpetual sunset. Was night a darker shade of these? Or was it midnight blue like back home? There were so many questions, and you hoped that Freya had the time or the patience to answer them all.

You wondered what was happening back on Earth.

When you had finished admiring the scenery outdoors and asking yourself a million unanswerable questions, you crossed the room to the door. Turning the handle, your room led out to a large hallway lined with dozens of doors along the right and left sides. Not knowing at all where you were going, you took a right and followed the hallway until you found Freya, something of interest, or a dead end.

You passed the doors speculating what might be inside, but refrained from attempting to enter them. Were these the rooms of other individuals who resided here? Would you be yelled at or attacked by a Viking if you knocked on one of the doors? 

“What are you doing?” a voice spoke. You jumped. Somehow Loki walked down the hall without you hearing his footsteps. Egotistical tyrant who also walks like a cat to sneak up on people, great.

His emerald green eyes bored into yours, his expression behind them half-judging, half-taunting as he awaited your response. And there it was again, that tug in your chest. It was undoubtedly attributed to Loki, but what would you accuse him of? 

Fear ran through you as you stood there scrutinized under his intimidating gaze, wondering if what Freya said was true — that he wouldn’t hurt you. Or couldn’t. There’s a stark difference between wouldn’t and couldn’t. Maybe you should have stayed in your room after all…

“If you are looking for Freya, she is in the dining hall with the fallen gods and warriors,” Loki finally said.

“Then why aren’t you there?”

“Because they are incessantly rowdy, and I already ate.”

He ended on a note of finality to the conversation but did not walk on. “I guess I’ll meet her there, then.” You made to walk past him back the way you came.

“How are you going to find her if you don’t know where to go?”

“I’ll manage,” you reply, letting your voice carry to Loki as you retreated down the hallway.

It took him no more than a few strides to catch up so that he was walking next to you. So, does this guy hate you or is he just that committed to making you feel inferior?

“Since you don’t know how to get to the dining hall it is probably in your best interest to _learn_. Unless you prefer wandering about looking like a lost child.”

You stopped walking. “So are you gonna show me or what?” _Douchebag_, you almost added.

Loki responded with that silent, critical look of his. With a wave of his hand a large oval appeared in front of the wall that emitted a faint blue light, with the ends of the oval swirling counterclockwise. In a matter of seconds, an image appeared of a large room with tables filled end to end with food and hundreds of men and women cheering, drinking, eating, talking, and dancing.

“In the halls of Folkvangr, you can walk to your destination or use its magic to simply conjure a portal directly to the room you have in mind.”

“Kinda like the Room of Requirement.”

“The what?”

“Never mind,” you replied sheepishly. A look of confusion passed over Loki’s face for a moment before disregarding it. “So all I have to do is think of the room I want to go to, and a portal appears?”

“Yes, that is what I just said. Try for yourself.”

His portal disappeared and the wall reverted back to its mahogany color. You pictured the dining hall in your mind. Nothing happened. Okay, maybe you also had to do a fancy little hand flick like Loki did? You tried that, nothing again. Now you felt like a fool in front of the god who was already finding any little detail to chastise you about.

“We’re going to be here until night, I’ll just take you there,” and without warning Loki slipped a hand around your waist and the scene changed around you. You were no longer in the hallway of seemingly endless rooms but in the dining hall. 

“Did you just teleport us?” you asked in amazement. Magic portals, instant healing, teleportation — this was almost too much to take in at once. Magic was real, and Loki used it so nonchalantly. You would be more excited if not for the fact that the feeling in your chest had actually felt kind of… pleasant when Loki grabbed you.

“Yes,” he replied. He removed his hand resting tenderly on your waist and the feeling in your chest became neutral again.

Before making his way toward Freya his eyes narrowed for a moment, just as he had yesterday. He shook it off again and left you for the goddess currently conversing with some Vikings with large cuts of meat on their plates.

The feel of Loki’s arm around you and his side just barely pressed against yours lingered even after he had left you, and him suddenly pulling you into him had given you goosebumps at the unexpectedness of the gesture. He wasn’t forceful when pulling you to him, and he didn’t grip too hard when his arm was around your waist. It was odd how someone you knew to be cruel could be so gentle. Strange and confusing sensations aside, you needed to speak with Freya.

The dining hall was huge; the ceiling must have been thirty feet from the floor. There were rows upon rows of tables, and plenty of food from end to end. It looked just like the inside of a large Viking hall for kings that you used to see in history books. Carved into the pillars were statues of brave warriors, both male and female. The tables and chairs were also made out of some finely-crafted wood. At the end of the hall, sat some chairs that overlooked the entire room, and in the middle was one that was larger and more regal than the rest. Each were empty, but you caught Freya leaving the center one to talk with the people she was currently in conversation with.

Teleportation must be considered normal here because few people batted an eye at your arrival. As you walked down the hall, you garnered a few stares from those who were not getting drunk or telling loud stories to their friends. Each of these people had died hundreds of years ago and here you were in average, everyday 21st century jeans and a shirt, and of course nothing about you screamed warrior. You quickened your pace to catch up to Loki.

Freya looked up from her guests and smiled at you, she excused herself and invited you to sit at the end of a table where no others were seated. Loki sat across from Freya, and you next to her.

“I am glad to see you’re feeling better,” Freya said to you.

“Thanks, I feel better.”

“And what are you doing here, Loki? You usually eat before the ruckus comes.”

“I was hoping to speak with you alone, but I did not expect to run in with the human,” he replied, looking at you briefly as he said the word ‘human’.

“I have a name, you know,” you said with irritation.

“Oh, norns, you’ve been here a day and we still don’t know your name!” Freya exclaimed.

“It’s Y/N.”

“Well, it is nice to officially meet you, Y/N,” Freya replied. “So, what do you need? Loki, we can talk later.”

Loki made a noise of disgruntled agreement but didn’t move from his spot. The dynamic between the two gods amused you: they were nearly exact opposites. Loki was brooding and cold while Freya was generous and kind. Loki also seemed to hate this place while every other soul in the dining hall was having the time of their afterlives. Folkvangr was essentially heaven and you had seen so little of it, but it was paradise, so what was Loki’s problem?

“I have a million questions. I don’t know if you can help me find out how I got here. I mean, clearly it doesn’t make any sense; I’m neither a dead god nor a fallen Norse warrior. Did someone fuck up with the paperwork when deciding where to put me after death?”

Freya smiled, and even Loki’s mouth turned up slightly at your joke. Okay, so he does have a sense of humor besides demeaning people he’s just met.

“I’m not sure,” Freya said. “In my thousands of years of ruling my realm, I have never seen anything like this, and I know little of magic. Do you have any theories, Loki?”

“The library may have something.”

For a moment, all your concerns disappeared. “Wait a sec, there’s a library here?” you asked, sounding more excited than you intended. The two gods looked at you.

“Yes, we have a library. Loki frequents it quite a bit, actually. I think he’s in there more than anywhere else,” she said teasingly. Loki rolled his eyes.

“The place would be collecting dust if not for me, since the Vikings would rather drink themselves into the next life than be literate.”

“Would you show Y/N to the library for me?”

“I suppose, since I probably have no say in the matter. Come, girl.” Loki pushed himself up from his chair. You had to jog to catch him since he did not bother to wait before leaving.

“We’re not going to teleport to the library?” you asked when you finally caught up to him.

“No, I don’t feel like it. And since you seem to be unable to create portals at the moment, you’ll need to learn how to get to major rooms on foot.”

He acted like he hates you, but if he truly did why wouldn’t he just tell Freya to show you around if he detested the idea so much? Whatever. This guy was too complicated to try and figure out.

Loki’s normal walking speed was faster than yours, so you were caught at an awkward half speed walking pace. It was annoying to keep up with, and he probably knew it.

The hall he took you through that connected the dining hall to the library was a long one dedicated to art. There were hundreds of portraits of people and oil or acrylic paintings done of Freya’s Hall, some with the field of grass surrounding it, others including a waterfall you had yet to see. Other paintings were beautiful landscapes of places that seemed to be taken straight out of a fairytale. You knew after Thor’s arrival on Earth that other worlds existed, but you didn’t really believe it until now. Some of these worlds were made entirely of fire, or of ice; others included animals in the trees that are definitely not native to Earth. A few were of a city containing a large, shining, gold palace in the center, and a rainbow walkway to the side ending at the world’s edge.

“This must be Asgard,” you marveled, stopping to take a better look at it.

Loki backtracked and stood behind you as the two of you looked at the painting. “Yes, it is.”

“You lived here, didn’t you?” you asked, looking up at Loki.

There was a pause before he answered. “I did.”

“Well, it’s beautiful.”

“Yes, it was,” he said. He walked on, not waiting for you to finish looking at the painting. You wanted to ask him more but with that you knew he would not say more on the matter.

At the end of the hall, Loki took you down a left turn that led to a room with a large entrance with bookshelves inside. You picked up the pace, your excitement causing you to beat Loki there. Never in a million years did you think Norse heaven would have a library. But then again, you didn’t know anything about Norse heaven until yesterday.

Similar to the dining hall, the library had a tall ceiling, with the bookshelves reaching almost as high. Each shelf had a tall ladder for retrieving books much too high to borrow from the ground. The library was smaller than your typical local library on Earth, but what it lacked in space lengthwise it made up for with the skyscraper-high bookshelves. It also had that antique Viking look of every other room that gave it a magical feeling.

“This is beautiful. What kind of books are there?”

“Histories and stories of the Nine Realms, magic tomes and spellbooks, war tactics, children’s fables, geography of the realms, and much more.”

You placed your hand on the spine of a book with gold lettering. Brushing some of the dust away with your fingers, it read: _The Major Houses of Asgard_. You might come back to this one later.

Where should you even start? This was a whole library on the cultures of worlds that humans have never seen before. Eventually, you asked Loki where to find books on magic. He directed you to one of the very first aisle of books toward the end of the room. At the very end was a lounge area with single sofas and what you would call coffee tables, if not for the fact that you had no idea if coffee was a thing gods and Vikings drank. Tea table? Mead table? Who knows. Built into the wall of the lounge was a fireplace, crackling as it warmed up the room.

As you approached the sections on magic, your eyes occasionally flicked back to the fireplace at the end of the room. Just as Loki began to speak, images flashed in your mind as you watched the fire burn. You might have screamed, you weren’t sure. Suddenly you were overwhelmed with memories of a mob chanting as they surrounded you. You remembered the fear and adrenaline of being tied to a pole against your will, the helplessness as you watched one of your captors pouring gasoline onto the large bonfire intended for your death. The smell of smoke filled your nostrils. You were no longer sure if you had dreamt up Folkvangr or if you were still there on that pile burning alive.

The next thing you knew, you were on the floor, gathered into an upright fetal position, holding your knees to your chest as you wished the thoughts away. The taste of burning wood and smoke made your mouth dry. Hot tears ran down your cheeks as you were forced to sit through the horror again. It was so clear and so real; how could you have forgotten?

When you came to, Loki was kneeling beside you, one hand on your back and a look of pure bewilderment on his face. He told you that it had lasted merely seconds, you had uttered a long scream and suddenly you were on the floor. He said he ran to you and that he tried to pull you out of the trance. Try as you might, you could not recall anything that happened to you during the episode, just the horrible memories of being used as a human sacrifice.

“I think a curse may have been cast on you,” Loki spoke. He removed the hand from your back and whispered words that were undeniably some ancient language. This time, instead of a green, smoky substance — a red, almost pinkish wine-looking substance emanated from his hand.

You held your hand out. “No, that’s not it. I remember now.” Loki raised an eyebrow but willed the magic out of existence.

After a moment, you spoke again: “I remember how I died.”

In the time it took you to regain your composure and wipe away your tears from the realization of what cruel feat was performed on you, Freya arrived. She rushed to your side, kneeling on the floor beside you.

“We all heard a scream from the dining hall.” She helped you on your feet, which, honestly you had forgotten that you were still on the floor, and made for you and Loki to follow her to the lounge chairs.

Loki explained what he saw to a concerned Freya, then you explained what you experienced. You described the fire and the mob and the fear you felt.

“I was sacrificed,” you finally said. A tear rolled down your cheek despite your efforts to keep it together in front of the gods. You had no idea people could be so cruel and barbaric. You expected this kind of behavior from hooded figures who capture people in the middle of the night, not your everyday townsperson. It all happened so quickly. The question you kept coming back to was _why?_

Throughout the commotion, you hadn’t noticed until just now that your hands were shaking. The smell and taste of smoke lingered in your throat and nostrils even after your episode. Coughing helped but it did not completely relieve you of the ashy, dry feeling.

“What do you mean you were sacrificed?” Freya asked, the horror apparent in her eyes. “I thought Midgardians had long since evolved past human sacrifice.” 

“As did I,” Loki said. He was also disturbed. “I haven’t seen a human sacrifice to any of the gods of the realms in centuries, but that explains why she’s here. And I have a feeling I know who she was sacrificed to.”

“Horrible,” Freya remarked. She brushed a strand of hair dangling in your face away, tucking it behind your ear. “But who? There are just a handful of gods that reside in my realm.”

“I remember that too.” You shifted your eyes from Freya and you could barely look Loki in the eye as you said: “I was sacrificed to you.”

A smirk graced Loki’s lips. “Well, I’m flattered.”

Freya smacked Loki’s arm. He didn’t acknowledge her.

“Don’t be, asshole.” you replied. “So there’s a reason why I’m here? It’s not some sort of mistake?”

“There is a very ancient magic attached to living sacrifices, especially sacrifices of intelligent beings such as humans,” Loki explained. “When someone is sacrificed, they become linked to the person they are sacrificed to. Just before death, they are transported to the individual in question they were given to. This bond is so strong that the human sacrifice cannot travel very far from who they are bound to or else they wither away into nothing.”

A heavy feeling in your gut appeared. You touched your fingers to your temples.

“Y/N, perhaps you should rest,” Freya said.

“No, I need to understand.”

“I was foolish for not realizing straight away,” Loki spoke, shaking his head. “I felt the connection form yesterday and I brushed it off as something else.”

“So you feel it, too? That tugging in your chest? That’s part of it?”

Loki’s eyes roved over you. He was silent a moment before speaking. “Yes, that is part of it. Connection of the souls. I haven’t felt it in centuries because I thought your kind had discarded that barbaric lifestyle — apparently, I was wrong.”

“So does that mean if I stray too far from you that you’ll wither away or whatever too?”

“No, because you were sacrificed to me. Unfortunately for me, I’ll have to endure the spiritual link whenever we’re in the same room together for a few weeks or so, but nothing will happen to myself if you or I were to leave Folkvangr. You, however… That’s a different story.”

You could almost see the smugness dripping off him, along with just a hint of pity. Sacrificed to Loki, of all gods.

“How do I undo it?”

“There really is no concrete way of undoing binding magic. The magic sometimes decays after days, but usually if left to disappear on its own it takes years. Binding magic can also be undone once the conditions of the sacrifice are met, which can be tricky to determine. However, when a woman is sacrificed, usually the condition surrounding her sacrifice is to sexually appease the god in question.”

You huffed at his explanation. “What about girls who were bound to Norse gods before me?”

“Some laid with the god they were sacrificed to and returned home, some left and withered away, a few decided to stay on Asgard until their actual death. Some returned to Midgard with no problems. Babies and children were raised by adoptive families and- “

“Kids were sacrificed?” you asked in horror.

“Not many, but yes.”

The knot in your stomach twisted. “I don’t want to leave and just wither away if I’m not actually dead but I don’t want to stay here forever wondering whether it’s safe to leave, either.”

“I would say your best ticket out of here is to have sex with me.” That smirk of his again.

Freya took a step away from Loki. “You disgust me.”

You came a hair’s breadth from socking him in the jaw. “I don’t sleep with tyrants that try to take over my planet. Failed ones especially.”

The smirk faded. Loki’s eyes narrowed. In an instant, he migrated forward, his face just inches from your own; his voice fell to a growl.

“I have no care what happens to you, Midgardian. You are not the first human who has been sacrificed to me, and once I leave this wretched place and your bind to me is stretched thin, whether you fade away into obscurity or not is no concern of mine.”

The last words out of his mouth were a hiss as he walked past you. His tall figure sauntered out of the library, leaving the room to you and Freya.

“What in all the realms caused a son of Odin to evolve into that?” Freya asked, shaking her head as she watched his form retreat. “Come, Y/N, I will take you to the dining hall and you can regain your strength. Don’t give another thought to Loki.”

Freya opened a portal identical to Loki’s with the same image of rows and rows of long tables. When Freya joined you on the other side she led you to the table nearest her chair at the front that overlooked the hall. You tried to eat despite the fact that the feeling of despair gathered in your stomach made it difficult to find anything appealing, even though all of it looked and smelled like a five-star restaurant. At the very least, with Loki gone you didn’t have to worry about that tugging that was a bitter reminder of why you were brought here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, this chapter was a monster to write. I mean, it was fun and all, but 4000 words...
> 
> And I wanted to say thank you all so much for the kudos and comments. I read through every one of them and it means so much!
> 
> Anyway, new chapter, hope you enjoy.

That night, you had nightmares real enough that you believed you were there again. The heat of the fire engulfed you, paralyzing you in your bed; that feeling of choking returned as you tasted that black smoke once again. You heard your own heart pounding, the roar of the fire as the flames grew higher, and the shouting and chanting of the mob who put you there. You woke up screaming. There was a hoarseness in your throat that you were not sure was attributed to the smoke in the dream, or the screaming afterward.

Very little light shone through the window. You had no clock but you guessed that it had been only about an hour since you went to bed, and dusk wasn’t for a few more hours. You laid back, resting your head on your sweat-stained pillow and looked up at the darkness above. There was a heaviness weighing on your eyelids but sleep wouldn’t come back to you. Maybe that was a good thing, because you were not anxious to experience those nightmares again. It was hard to sleep with your hands and body shaking anyway. 

You stared at black nothingness for what you would guess was another hour as your anxiety settled. Irritated and exhausted, and irritated at your exhaustion, you flung the blanket off your body. Since you clearly weren’t falling asleep any time soon, you’d rather find something to do. There were sconces in the halls. You didn’t know what Folkvangr had to offer, but at least you could find your way to the library, or the dining hall if your appetite would ever return.

You were also too tired to care if you ran into somebody in the pajamas Freya gave you. Except Loki, maybe.

In the library, there were thousands of places to start, but you couldn’t decide where. You peered down your right, then your left. You looked at the signs indicating the content of the areas you passed through. Theoretical science, astronomy, theoretical magic, spellbooks, history of Asgard, history of Vanaheim, history of dozens of more realms and planets you had no clue about. History of Midgard didn’t earn a second glance.

After absorbing hundreds of titles, you looped back around to the books about magic. Something in here must contain information about how to undo binding magic, and once that’s over and done with you wouldn’t have to worry about Loki anymore.

The light in the library at night was not very helpful. The candles on the walls allowed you to read the titles of the books, but you were sure to get a headache if you tried reading pages. You took a small stack of books you collected for yourself and carried them to the small lounge. Thankfully, as you came closer, looking at the fire did not trigger the memories again.

You yelped in surprise as you bumped into a figure exiting a row of books an aisle or two over. Some of the books knocked out of your hands and onto the floor with a loud smack.

“Clumsy,” Loki remarked, handing back the books quicker than you could think. Of course it was Loki you ran into, literally. Tucked under his arm was a book titled _Transportational Magic_. You fumbled to think of something to say. Or maybe you shouldn’t say anything at all and walk past him with your nose in the air. You were still pissed at him, after all.

“Why are you here so late? I thought no one else was in here. You scared me.”

“I can see that.”

Looking up at him, you realized how tall he was, and the power his presence commanded — which definitely made him appear even larger. Every other interaction you had with him he was degrading you while you were laid in a bed or on the floor, or degrading you while making you run after him to keep up. His height and stature, along with his centuries of life under his belt probably made you seem like an ant to him. You certainly felt small now.

The lack of proper lighting of the sconces on the walls made it difficult to see Loki’s face, and honestly you weren’t sure if that made you feel better or worse. 

“Why are _you_ here so late?” he asked. “After what happened this afternoon I would expect you’d be exhausted.”

“It almost sounds like you care.”

“I’m just stating the facts.”

You would have weaseled past him if not for the fact that he was taking up most of the space in the tiny walkway that leads to the fireplace.

The answer to your question about the darkness was answered when Loki made a gesture with his fingers. The candles on the walls flickered with new life in them. His face, more specifically, his cheekbones were highlighted under the candlelight. There was an intensity in his eyes that made you want to retreat back into a shell, but at the same time it made your heart pound. You might consider him attractive if he wasn’t so terrifying. And rude.

“I’m here because I couldn’t sleep,” you said.

“I do most of my reading during the night,” he replied. “I usually only sleep for a few hours at a time, if that.”

“Is that like a god thing?”

“It’s more a me thing.”

Gods can have insomnia? You would have asked but you could tell Loki’s easy agitation with you was coming up again. You never knew anyone who could be so offended by questions. 

Loki’s analytical eyes flickered from you to your stack of books. “What do you have there, mortal?” Loki gestured to the stack that was growing heavier by the minute.

“Books about magic. Maybe something that can undo this binding thing.”

“And you think you can find it?”

He really got off on making you feel stupid. You stared at him, waiting for his inevitable explanation as to why you, silly human, could not simply do this thing.

“Binding magic is ancient and powerful magic. There might be a spell to undo it, but to my knowledge, that spell either doesn’t exist or has been lost to time.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “How do you lose a spell?”

“The spell is written down and gets lost, stolen, or destroyed. There are many ancient spells from millennia ago that may never be recovered.”

“Well, the least I can do is _try_,” you said, pushing past him to sit down in front of the fireplace.

“Or we could always just do it the easy way.” The smirk on his face was evident even though you weren’t looking at him.

He _really_ wants to be slapped. 

“If you want to get laid so bad, go ask one of the Viking women. Maybe one of them has enough misjudgment to want to sleep with you.”

Loki gave a small chuckle. “I have little interest in them.”

He turned and left, and you did not see him wandering through the library the remainder of the night. He must have returned to his room, or wherever else Loki frequented. As you flipped through the tomes, searching for any solutions to this binding magic, his voice spoke in your head, repeating his last words to you: “_I have little interest in_ them.”

When you were woken some time later with a book in your lap you found that you were able to fall asleep again without nightmares. Freya stood over you, lightly nudging your shoulder.

“I was wondering if I would find you here, since you weren’t in your room,” she said. “I’m sorry for waking you, but I wanted to show you something.”

You told her it was no big deal and rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes.

Freya led you out of the library and down the winding, mazelike halls until you were brought outside. A small hint of light on the horizon indicated dusk was soon approaching. Your tiredness and mild confusion of what Freya had to show you disappeared when brilliant rays of blue colored the early morning sky. Aquamarine interspersed with other shades caused the sky to look like it held a sea.

“Is this an aurora?” you asked.

Freya nodded. “Yes. It’s an aurora that appears every hundred years. It’s called Freyr’s Blessing, after my brother. At my age, I’ve seen it quite a few times, but I never tire of its beauty.”

“It is beautiful,” you said, staring at it in awe, just as Freya and other individuals who had gathered around to witness the event. “On Earth our auroras are usually green.”

The aurora disappeared after a few minutes, fading away slowly as the light from the rising sun peaked further over the horizon. Soon, the sky began to assume its regular peachy color, which was still a sight to behold on its own.

The sizable crowd dispersed and you noticed not far from you stood Loki. The two of you locked eyes as he turned to leave, his gaze lingering on you a moment.

“So, Loki enjoys looking at pretty things?” you asked Freya with a smirk.

“Failed tyrants need entertainment, too.” Loki spoke. You could feel your face going pale, you didn’t think he would hear from the distance he was.

He approached you and Freya, his eyes flicked from you to her. “We still haven’t had our conversation.”

“You know what my answer is. My priority at the moment is acclimating our new guest to Folkvangr.”

“This girl’s _comfort_ takes precedence over me trying to right the wrongs of —”

“Wait,” you said, interrupting Loki’s fast-increasing agitation. “I thought we were going to undo this binding magic thing.”

Freya frowned. “I am so sorry, Y/N, but as far as I know there is no way to undo binding magic. It undoes itself, and since we don’t know how to meet the conditions of your sacrifice, I’m afraid there’s not much that can be done.”

You took a step back, eyes narrowed. “It sounds like you won’t help me rather than you can’t help me. I’m not just going to sit around when I haven’t even tried yet.”

Freya opened her mouth to speak, her eyes sad. You waited for her counterargument and when there was none, she closed her mouth again.

“I’m going back to the library,” you said, leaving the gods behind you.

Back in the library again, you continued where you left off before drifting to sleep. The book open in your lap had sections about all sorts of magical links; between animals, between objects, between individuals. All of these had their incantations to do and undo these links, and what each of them achieved. When you had finally found the section about binding magic, you read it with hope. At the very end was sacrificial binding magic. The paragraph gave a little more information but summarized mostly what you heard from Loki and Freya yesterday:

_Binding magic conjured by sacrifice is one of the strongest known forms of binding magic there are, second behind binding magic by pure love and devotion. The intense emotions not only coming from the crowd, but the sacrifice as well, create this magic. Upon the brink of life and death, the sacrifice is transported to the location of the individual they have been sacrificed to. Although the magic is nearly as old as magic itself, it is not fully understood. The intense and often feral emotions built up in the participants make it hard to pinpoint how the sacrifice can unlink themselves to the individual they have been given to._

_If one attempts to break the bond by separating themselves from the individual they were sacrificed to, it can prove fatal. The further a sacrifice strays from their individual, the weaker they grow. Most often, a sacrifice is a woman given to a god under the condition she lie with him so that he may be more inclined to grant the request of the community. As this is usually the case, the bond will cease once intercourse has been completed. Bonds may also break by fading over time, sometimes in a matter of days, but usually they are strong enough to last years or even the sacrifice’s entire lifetime._

You ended at the last period of the paragraph at the end of the page. There had to be more than this. You flipped the page, even inspected the binding to see if a page had been ripped out. That was all the knowledge the book contained.

You set the book aside and began your search through the other books in your small collection. Soon you discovered that each was turning out to be as useless as the last. You shut them closed hard enough to elicit a thump that reverberated through the room. Whatever, it’s not like there’s a librarian prowling around to shush you.

“There is no need to take your emotions out on the books,” said a voice. Loki’s. He was excellent at creeping up on people, you were quickly noticing.

And worse than a librarian.

“I have a right to be frustrated,” you said, not turning in your seat to look at him. You rubbed your eyes which were protesting your long study session.

Loki walked around the plush sofa you had settled yourself in, his long legs passing your seat to seat himself in the one adjacent. He crossed one over the other.

“If you do find this lost spell you’re wasting your time looking for, how do you suppose you’ll perform it?”

“Don’t you have something better to do?” You snapped.

“Careful, pet,” he warned. “But do enlighten me, how are you going to cast the spell?”

You looked into his taunting eyes, you knew he would revel in the answer you were about to give him.

“I’ll teach myself.”

Loki threw his head back and laughed. His chest and shoulders rumbled as he did so. You stared icy daggers into him while he mocked you.

“Teach yourself.” His amusement disappeared in an instant. “Have you ever performed magic in your short, meaningless life? Do you understand the emotional and psychological energy you need to expend to break a magical bond? Once you have trained many years in spellcasting can you teach yourself new spells, but since you have no experience whatsoever, you wouldn’t even be able to conjure a needle out of thin air.”

“Then teach me.”

Loki’s eyes widened out of genuine surprise. This was soon replaced by a shake of his head. “That would be a waste not only of your time, but mine as well.” 

He stood up to leave.

“What do you have to lose?” you asked, following him down the main corridor. “You teach me magic and when I find the spell I undo the binding thing and I’m out of your hair.”

“Even if you do find the spell, you will not be proficient enough to cast it.”

He walked fast, but you walked faster so you could cut him off. It wouldn’t kill him to listen to you for two freaking minutes. “Then you cast it and you don’t have to put up with me.”

“Move aside.”

“No.”

Loki gritted his teeth. “I said move aside, mortal.”

“I deserve at least an ounce of respe-”

Your sentence was cut off when Loki backed you against the wall. A grunt escaped your throat as you back thudded into it. Your heart raced and your eyes widened in fear. Loki had a firm grip on your shoulder to keep you right where he wanted you.

“I owe nothing to you, mortal. Your concerns are your own. I don’t have time to teach you an art you will never be able to grasp.” His free hand found the base of your neck, not squeezing, but you were sure that could change in a split second.

“I can impart on you this wisdom though: not to agitate those who have no quarrels in harming you. This magical connection means nothing.”

He stared at you with that gaze that made you wish you could look away, but he was right here in front of you. There was nowhere else to look. The connection of the binding magic didn’t help either. Every time you touched it felt its strongest, and like when he grabbed you by the waist yesterday; _comfortable_, and you had a hunch it was the same for Loki. But his agitation and his focus were stronger than the distraction of the link, and it shook you to your core. You felt completely exposed under him, like he could read every emotion, every process going through your mind. The grip on your neck tightened slightly, sending a new wave of fear through you despite the magic of the bond. He was expecting a reaction. Knowing him, he wanted you to scream or beg. He smiled a wolfish grin at you.

“You should really stop calling me mortal when you’re the one that’s dead.”

Loki exhaled through his nose. He was amused. His grip on you receded, but he was still too close for comfort.

He replied, his voice low in your ear. “That may be the smartest thing I’ve heard from you yet.”

You shivered.

He left the library and you, who was still up against the wall. You watched his departing figure. Once he was out of your sight, you wondered why you felt flushed.

-

So, fine, Loki wouldn’t help you. He wasn’t the only viable teacher in Folkvangr. You found Freya later in her garden you had yet to explore. There had to be thousands of species of flowers. Many were similar to the flora on Earth, but there were other, exotic flowers that caught your eye. Orange vines with red buds growing against the wall of the castle wrapped their way all the way up to a window. One small patch of white flowers closed their petals before you even touched them. Fruit trees lined the pathway that wound through the garden. Most looked unripe, but honestly, it was just a guess. 

Freya waved you over when you locked eyes. She was kneeling in front of a small rose bed. Or what looked like roses, anyway.

“I was just watering them.”

The roses glistened under the sunlight but there was no bucket or container, and you were sure hoses didn’t exist here. 

“With what?” you asked.

Freya extended a hand and a light shower descended from it. You watched with fascination.

“Do you think you can teach me?”

“How to cast a watering spell?”

“Anything.”

“I’m not sure I would be the best teacher. I do know some magic but my knowledge is limited. It would be even harder since you’re human.”

There was a tense silence before Freya spoke again: “I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to come off as unhelpful, but the fact of the matter is binding magic is unstable and unknowable. And while you’re here, you won’t die. The Vikings who died and came here dreamt and sang about the afterlife.”

“Folkvangr is beautiful, Freya, but I don’t belong here.”

“Are you pestering the poor fertility goddess now?” asked Loki, right on cue. The creeping, seriously.

“Don’t you ever just start with a hello?”

“She certainly won’t teach you,” Loki said, continuing with his thought.

“Everyone says I can’t do magic, but no one has actually tried to teach me.”

Loki approached you. “Picture a needle.”

You frowned. “What?”

“I’m teaching you,” he said. “Picture a needle.”

“Okay.”

“Picture a time you’ve seen a needle, and picture that needle in front of you where you are right now.”

There was silence among the three of you as you did so. Was there a next step? You were picturing doing exactly as he said. Were you supposed to say abrakadabra?

“I said picture it.”

“I am!”

He crossed his arms. “Nothing happened because you’re human.”

You huffed. “Okay, smart guy. What about Doctor Strange? As far as I know he’s human. From New York, in fact, which is about as human as you can get.”

“That oaf got lucky to learn a card trick or two,” Loki muttered.

You shook your head. “No, I’ve seen what he can do. He can do magic. So can I.”

“You can’t even conjure a needle —”

“Maybe if you actually acted like a teacher. Conjure your own needle.”

A moment later, a needle popped into existence just in front of Loki. He took it between two of his fingers, holding it out to you as his way of saying “See? Simple,” then it faded back out of existence.

“Loki, why can’t you teach her?” Freya asked.

“If it’s so I don’t have to be pestered about it any longer, then fine.” He turned his head toward you. “But don’t think because you’re human I’ll make it easy on you. If I find you’re incapable of performing magic, I won’t waste a second longer than I have to on this fool’s errand.”

You pushed the assholery of his comment aside for giddiness. “Wait, so you will teach me?”

“Yes, but you won’t ever reach levels of mastery, I can guarantee you that.”

“If the needle thing is supposed to be easy, show me a master spell, then.”

Loki quirked an eyebrow. His lips tugged into a smile and he told you and Freya to stand back. Suddenly, he moved and began what you could only describe as some kind of dance with his hands. The concentration was evident on his face, but so was calm. His arms moved so fluidly it was like watching someone move in water. It was kind of beautiful, really. The way he moved himself with grace and confidence meant he’s performed this spell before. He wasn’t half-assing a second of it. His passion for the art of magic shone through in his performance.

It was short, but every second of it was a treat to see. When he finished he placed his arms in front of his torso, one crossed over the other, palms up. He glanced at Freya, but his eyes quickly flickered over to you. Loki raised an eyebrow up and down at you, indicating what was to come.

It happened instantly. A tower of fire whooshed up and encapsulated Loki. The roar of the fire picked up as it spun clockwise around him. All birds resting peacefully in the trees took flight to escape the sudden danger that erupted in the garden.

Though the flames were a bright orange, you could see Loki behind them, his head slightly tilted, still looking at your awe-struck face. He relished in the fact that you were impressed by it.

Your jaw dropped when the vortex of fire began to take shape of a bird. The wings extended out to what had to be a wingspan of fifty feet. The head of the bird sprouted a beak and feathers made of fire grew out of the top of its head. The phoenix breathed out a line of fire and ash into the air. It was breathtaking and struck a combination of awe and a sense of danger within you. Satisfied with himself, Loki made a smooth gesture with his hands from inside the phoenix, and the flaming vortex disappeared with only a few flakes of ash falling to the ground.

Freya gave Loki a quiet applause of three or four claps. He stepped forward, stopping in front of you once again.

“Did that satisfy your curiosity?”

You nodded. In your dumbstruck silence you noted how the flames hadn’t left a single trace on him. No burns, no ash, his perfectly styled raven hair not a hair out of place, not even a drop of sweat on his brow. Nothing to indicate the marvel that just transpired. Except for one, and it was hard to miss. Loki’s eyes weren’t green but yellow and orange, the same color of the fire. Looking close enough they might have been actual flames, the colors shifted and moved like a fire would. They were striking, and brought out even more by the contrast of his green and black garb and his black hair. 

With each blink, the fire faded and you watched as the orange changed into red, to black, to green.

“How much longer are you going to stare?” he asked. 

You felt yourself blush. You hadn’t realized you were gazing up at him even after they turned green. His eyes roved over you in amusement. 

“We can start tomorrow.”

You felt the same confusion you did back in the library after he departed. Freya offered to show you around the rest of the garden. You agreed, hoping the flowers would get your mind off it. She told you the names of the flowers you were curious about but you hadn’t noticed in your thoughts you’d been trying to shut out that you’d been making faces.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” you lied. 

It wasn’t just the pull of the link between you. 

You were attracted to Loki.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this note with the previous chapter before school started but I forgot. So, well, school started. I'm taking a full set of classes this semester so consistency with chapter updates is gonna be wonky, but I'm writing when I can. Anyway, here's a new chapter!

At some point while you were asleep, Loki apparently stopped by your room because the following morning a letter was slipped underneath the door. Whether the letter was a result of his insomnia or antisocial nature, you weren’t sure. When you unfolded it, the handwriting was neat, the letters penned thin and close together with a particular Loki flair to it. The message was short and concise.

_Come out to the fields on the east end of the hall by nine. You will find me there. Do not dawdle._

Nine o’ clock? There wasn’t a clock in your room. You looked out the window. The sunlight looks nine-ish outside, sure, whatever. You got dressed quickly and went out to find him. His patience was thin, so you grabbed some sort of Folkvangr fruit that looked similar to a bell pepper, except when you bit into it it tasted more like a peach, but thankfully didn’t spill juice everywhere with each bite.

You didn’t know where east was and it didn’t help that the sun here sets in the north, or was it south? So that’s already got your directions messed up. Thankfully a kind, elderly Viking you passed along the way named Svund was able to point you in the right direction. He gave you a confused look as you went on your way. You were quickly adjusting to the odd looks you received from people who haven’t seen new humans since 1300 AD. It’s just as easy to stare at men and women walking around in leather and metal like it’s a fair, except in this case you’re the odd one out.

Loki wasn’t too far from the palace, you were able to see him from a window. He was in a clearing of the field where the grass had been cut in a perfect circle around him about fifteen feet long in all directions. He turned around while you approached, spoiling your chance to creep up on him for once and give him a taste of his own medicine, though you weren’t sure if that was even possible with someone as perceptive as him, let alone the fact that he’s a literal god. He probably has super hearing.

A blue sphere of light hovering higher than Loki disappeared upon a slight wave of his hand.

“What was that?” you gestured to where the sphere used to be.

“A defensive spell.” Loki gave no further explanation. He cocked his head. “Are you ready to start?”

“Yes.”

He eyed you up and down. “Before anything else, you are going to need to clear your mind of all doubts and anxieties. This is the most difficult part of performing spells, especially when you aren’t getting it right.”

You lowered the hands you hadn’t realized you were wringing. You dropped them to your sides.

“Well, that’s just shitty.”

“I told you it wasn’t going to be easy.”

You took a moment, thinking about what an experience this would be. There was no reason to be nervous. You were about to be taught how to do magic. This was going to be fun. It’s going to be fun, you repeated to yourself.

“Okay,” you said finally.

“Are you sure?” Loki asked.

“As ready as I can be.”

Your exciting, first ever magic lesson was moving a small tree branch without touching it. Nothing exciting but hey, where was this skill during the times you were sitting on the couch and the remote was out of reach?

He explained how to do it, and then showed you with a demonstration of his own. When it was your turn, you did just as Loki had: you pictured exactly what you wanted in your mind, thinking of nothing else but the branch on the ground. A minute, maybe two passed by before Loki spoke, reiterating the lesson: ridding your mind of doubts is key.

So you tried again, and a third time, and the more you tried and failed the worse your doubt became.

“This is a waste of time,” Loki said.

“Come on, it hasn’t even been half an hour!”

“A half hour wasted,” he said with irritation. “Humans cannot learn magic. The few who did should consider themselves lucky.”

“Are you going to teach me, or are you just going to watch me fail without telling me what I’m doing wrong?”

“Tomorrow, girl,” he replied with a lazy wave of his hand. 

He headed back toward Folkvangr hall. You balled up your fists and wished that the stupid twig would collide with the back of his head. In an instant, the branch behind you whooshed past you. You watched in amazement as its trajectory was headed straight for Loki like you imagined. Awe turned to dread when you imagined what kind of reaction he would have at being attacked. To your relief, the branch slowed down, brushing the ends of Loki’s hair before falling lifeless to the ground again. Loki spun around, his stance instantly changed to attack mode. His eyes narrowed at you, then followed their way to the wood inches from his feet. He stood up straight once realization dawned on him.

“I’m almost impressed.”

“I was aiming for your head.”

“Another thing humans aren’t very good at,” he taunted. “Meet me here tomorrow, same time.”

As a quick learner, not getting the hang of spellcasting frustrated you. You were progressing, but definitely slower than you anticipated. And the search for the spell to undo the binding magic wasn’t going much better. Two weeks passed since your arrival to Folkvangr and nothing, not even a clue. There were hundreds of books you hadn’t looked into and you weren’t ready to throw in the towel yet. However, along the way you did find some intriguing spells that you hoped you could perform down the road – maybe a decade from now at this rate.

It was strange; you had the passion for magic. Seriously, what person on Earth hasn’t wished for magic powers at some point in their life? How can it be so difficult? And Loki, who thrives on being a dick, told you several times that teaching you was a waste of effort. So why was he still?

Then it came to you. What else was there for him to do here? Loki wasn’t the type to drink himself until he passed out like a majority of the residents here. He spent much of his time in the library, isolating himself in his room, or off doing who knows what and where for hours before returning to Freya’s hall. You rarely saw him speak to another body beside Freya or yourself, and he did that sparingly. How long can anyone do only those things before going mad? Teaching you was the most stimulation for an intellect like him. Besides, it was obvious he enjoyed showing off his abilities to someone who appreciates them. Some days, if he was in the mood, he would humor you by showing you other advanced spells.

“What was the name of that spell you did in the garden?” you asked one day before Loki jumped straight into the lesson.

“The Phoenix’s Glory,” Loki replied.

“What does it do?”

“It can be used for combat, but very rarely. For the most part it is a demonstration of the sorcerer’s abilities, because mistakes will lead to you getting burned.”

“So what you’re saying is it’s the perfect spell for you to show off.” 

“Surprised?” There was amusement in his voice.

“Not in the least. I saw your whole spiel in Germany. You know, there are better ways of getting attention,” you joked.

His playful tone vanished in a second. Spooky how he did that. “You think I went to Earth because I was _bored_?”

It took you a moment to assess the sudden change in tone. Okay, not joking anymore. 

“Well, you were planning on subjugating us, right? Why, what’s the point?”

Loki towered over you. “I don’t expect a simple earthling to understand,” he sneered.

“So there’s a justification for it?”

“Do you want an apology, girl, is that it?” His voice was low, almost a growl. For a millisecond it wasn’t just fear stirred in you.

You groaned. “That’s not what I’m saying and you know it.”

Loki’s arm snapped outward to grab your wrist, pulling you close to him. A grunt escaped you at the sudden gesture. He held your arm at chest height and your wrist twisted under his grip at an awkward angle.

“Why do you insist on antagonizing me?”

Your face was inches from him, and your person held in place under his gaze. You wrenched your arm out of his grip.

“Why are you such an ass?”

You took a step back from him and held your wrist in your other hand, protecting it from another potential assault.

“I don’t have to teach you magic. In fact, I don’t want to. So what do you want, girl?”

“Holy shit, dude, I was just teasing you, then you got all serious. Touchy subject, I won’t bring it up again.”

“Then we will resume with the lesson.”

His irritation with you dissolved and he shifted to teaching mode. While you were still suffering from whiplash a la Loki he had already moved on. He was exhausting, but you pushed past it. Today you were going to move the elements, which was cooler than the other stuff you were taught thus far. 

Learning magic was tough and it was a slow process for you, but Loki was a damn good teacher. His methods made more sense to you than what the books you found were saying. Without him, you wouldn’t be making progress at all. You weren’t about to admit that though.

He was so calm when he demonstrated magic, and there were moments when you caught yourself looking at him rather than the object he was manipulating. Like just now for instance, you were watching him watch leaves swirl with wind he created rather than heeding his words.

“You love it, don’t you?” you asked.

Loki’s eyebrow furrowed. “Love what?”

“Magic.”

“I would say magic is _useful_. However, love it...” he shook his head.

“Come on. I see the way you are when you perform it. You become a completely different person. I know you’re the god of lies but you can admit when you have a passion for something.”

He rolled his eyes, but he didn’t sound annoyed when he said: “Are you going to perform the spell or not?”

You found bending the elements to be challenging but incredibly fun once you got the hang of it. The easiest were air and water, earth the hardest, and fire you steered clear of entirely, which Loki surprisingly did not berate you for. You couldn’t create fierce wind currents or deadly icicles like him, but you felt accomplished either way.

During the lesson a Viking came out to have a brief word with Loki. While distracted, you created a small rain cloud over the god. The man left and Loki looked up as he began to be rained upon. The raindrops fell but never touched him by some counterspell he casted in the nick of time.

“Watch it,” he warned. 

You snickered at your prank that nearly succeeded. With a look of mischief on his face, Loki transformed the vapor of the cloud back into liquid water and splashed you.

“I was only gonna have it rain on you. You completely drenched me.”

“Then get me,” he taunted.

Every time you tried to splash him back, as easily as nothing Loki redirected it to the grass or back at you. At this point you had been splashed three or four times. It was still comical, but now you were determined to get him even if it was only the tiniest water droplet.

With water being thrown around everywhere, the grass was looking more like mud and an idea formed into your head. You had to bank on Loki for it to work, otherwise you weren’t just going to be wet, but muddy, too.

You approached Loki, who only quirked his eyebrow. He scanned you as he tried to piece together what you planned to do. Getting closer to him wasn’t going to get him wet; he was too smart. Both of you knew this but that wasn’t what you were going for. 

Already regretting everything, and with a lot of fear and a little hope, you allowed yourself to slip once you were within arm’s reach of Loki. In record time, and exactly according to plan, he caught you. He was bent over, having saved you from falling into a mud bath by a matter of inches.

“And what exactly was your plan here?” he teased as his face and body hovered over yours. His hair dangled over your face.

Yes, right, your plan. You ignored the slight pleasurable sensation from the bond that rushed through you as Loki held you from gravity’s clutches. And more difficult to ignore was the fact that dark, brooding prince here just caught you in his arms. With magic, you willed the water over Loki’s head and a ball of mud just out of his peripherals.

“Slipping was my plan.” With your mind, the floating mud pile moved into his line of vision. He jerked his head to the right.

“You have a choice here, either you can let the water fall on you, or worse, stop the water but I get the nice and tidy Loki dirty.”

He smirked. “My magical abilities far overpower yours. I can easily concentrate on more than one thing and intercept them both, or better yet: I could drop you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

His eyelashes fluttered. “How highly you must think of me.”

“Why don’t you just let me have this _one_ victory?”

He chuckled darkly and placed his lips next to your ear. “You should know by now that I don’t play fair.”

And he let you go.

However, obsessed with victory as he is, Loki was kind enough to magic away all the mud off when you got back on your feet. After gloating, of course, and very angry words from you.

\---

The next time you agreed to meet was four days later. If he wasn’t secretive you would have asked why. You saw him only once during the short hiatus, and during the time you made sure to practice. When the day came to resume, Loki said you would be creating minor illusions. As usual, you were in a clearing of the field, and in front of you was nothing except for cut grass; your job being to remedy that. Illusions are trickier, he told you, and in his words hung the unspoken admittance that you were improving if he was moving on to harder magic.

He was close behind you, and the spiritual bond between you present as always. You were reminded of the other day when he had grabbed your wrist, and when he pushed you into the wall, and of course him catching you mid fall. Each time, and no matter how long the contact, the tug of the bond in your chest remained in its effect. Loki told you the side effect of the bond would last for him only a few weeks. Had it subsided yet? You became used to it but it was always noticeable. It had to be the same for him.

“Doesn’t this stupid tug drive you crazy? 

“The bond?” he spoke behind you.

You nodded.

“I must admit, I don’t miss when we received human sacrifices.”

You turned around, facing him. “You’re not used to it? Wouldn’t you have slept with hundreds of sacrifices or something?”

“Hardly. Sacrifices happened but they were uncommon. But yes, I laid with a few of them, since you seem curious to know.” A sly grin appeared on his lips.

Your face became hot and you looked away. Thankfully, Loki returned back to the subject matter, telling you to imagine something small and simple for your first illusion.

“Like a needle?”

That weaseled a hint of a smile from him. “Yes. Or an acorn, or something similar.”

“How is this any different from making something appear?”

He explained to you how making appear something that exists is one thing, but tricking the mind into believing it is seeing something that is not there at all is another entirely. 

“Point to where you want the illusion to appear, it will make creating the image easier.”

You reached your hand out, imagining an acorn on the ground per his example. Loki stepped behind you, his fingers brushing against your bicep, relaxing your arm as he moved down to your wrist. As always, the tug in your chest amplified at the contact of skin. You looked up at him, to which you were greeted by his own observant eyes staring down at you. Anyone could drown in that green. You blushed and looked away again. The bond within you felt like a rubberband about to snap.

“Not so tense,” he spoke softly. It took everything in you not to shudder next to him.

For a second you wished he stayed there longer. He stepped back, leaving you to concentrate on your task, which was curiously more difficult to do now. In front of you flickered the image of an acorn. The image was weak, more like a projection, not opaque but it was there nonetheless. Loki made a noise you weren’t sure if was approving or not. You awaited his commentary.

One hand was underneath his chin. “For a first try, it’s not terrible.”

The imaginary, glitchy acorn rolled over. You continued for another hour, focusing on creating the illusion into a more believable one. When Loki concluded the session for the day, progress was made and the acorn was almost 100% believable. You smiled to yourself after parting. You were finally getting somewhere.


	6. Chapter 6

You were woken up to the sound of knocking at your door. You rubbed your eyes as you made your way slowly to open it. Freya smiled at you warmly.

“I think after all these magic lessons you’ve been doing with Loki that you need to relax.”

“I see,” you replied sleepily.

Her smile didn’t waver. Nor did she move an inch.

“Oh, do you mean like right now?”

“No, not now. Eat first, then we can go swimming.”

“Swimming?”

Freya smiled. Behind her back she pulled out what looked to be a bathing suit. It was light gold with bits of green here and there. The bottom was a short skirt of the same pattern. The feel of the cloth was similar to how swimsuits are on Earth.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“Generally we swim naked, but I had a feeling you might be uncomfortable with that.”

You laughed and took the swimwear from the goddess. “Thank you again.”

After eating breakfast, Freya met you and led you outdoors. Despite all your time here, the only outdoor locations you had been to were the courtyard, gardens, and the field. Behind the hall, however, was a long pathway that you followed the goddess up. The pathway parted the grass, and winded up a hill. As you reached closer, a cliff came into view, and soon the waterfall that you had heard of did as well. It cascaded down the cliffside. It was a pristine blue, almost unreal, like what you see in a commercial for spring water. At the bottom you could make out some figures swimming in the pool the waterfall flowed into.

The closer you came to the waterfall the grass became sparser and the dirt into sand. It was like a perfect little private beach. The waterfall roared louder as you approached. When the light of the sun hit the falling water at the right angle faint rainbows of mist caught the eye. You and Freya picked a spot further away from the waterfall so you could talk. She magicked her clothes away and she had on a thinner outfit, a light blue. A bathing suit that was similar to yours but the skirt longer; it could easily be mistaken for a dress.

The two of you were the only individuals to swim who were clothed. Every Viking was stark naked, very few had cloth wrapped around their waist. 

“You don’t go swimming naked?”

“I do, usually,” Freya answered. “But I figured I wouldn’t this time.”

You appreciated it, but she was so sure you were some blushing maiden. You could handle seeing naked people. 

The water was the perfect temperature. You sank down to your shoulders quickly, sighing at the refreshing feeling of the water on your skin. You watched a group of men dunking each other into the water and laughing, splashing each other as they did so. These people were alive hundreds of years ago, and they weren’t any different from people having fun at the beach today. The idea made you smile.

For a time you were explaining to Freya how different things are on Earth than they were a thousand years ago. Since her main priority is to maintain the welfare of the individuals in her realm, she doesn’t exactly have time to read up on Earth history. She had a general idea of major events, however. When you got to explaining the internet, you had to abandon it, ending the subject by explaining to her that the internet is something you have to experience to understand. If you had a phone – if phones even worked here, which they probably don’t, you didn’t think she would be impressed by what the internet has to offer anyway. Except for cat videos, no one can resist those.

What you didn’t expect as you and Freya enjoyed yourselves is that Loki would come. You sensed his arrival through the bond just before he was about to speak. You had pulled yourself out of the water, save for your ankles and below, and were basking in the sun with the warm sand under your thighs when the god approached. As he did so, you became aware of your attire and how skimpily dressed you were. Granted, you were nowhere near as naked as the other swimmers were.

Loki’s eyes roved over you briefly and you felt an added feeling of warmth to your face that wasn’t the sun’s rays.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he said to you.

“Come on in, Loki,” Freya said from the water. “Relax for once.”

“I didn’t come to swim. I came here because you have been putting off our conversation for days. No. Weeks now.”

“Well, I’m having fun here swimming with Y/N, and I don’t expect we’re getting out any time soon.” Freya did a backstroke away from the shore to emphasize her point.

Loki watched her float relaxedly with irritation. It was evident in his face he was deciding what to do, but ultimately you expected him to do one of his dramatic walk-aways and leave you to your fun. You were wrong. In a flash of green, his robes disappeared and the only thing he wore were shorts.

As it was, you already had your puzzling crush on him. His face and x-rated voice were enough to deal with. Loki was rather a reserved dresser, you never saw anything of him besides his face and hands, the rest hidden away by black and green leather and metal. You found yourself staring at the currently shirtless, annoyed god and willed yourself to look away, which was becoming harder to do as he entered the water. 

Wet and shirtless now.

He was lean but fit, his muscles toned, and maybe more than once you wondered about the strength contained in those arms. The sunlight glinted off the pale skin of his chest. You were glad he was looking at Freya right now and not you.

“Never in a thousand years did I think you would actually join us,” Freya said to Loki. 

You reentered the water, which was cool on your skin in contrast to the hot sand under you and the sun on your face.

Freya turned to you. “I’ve been trying to get him to swim here ever since he arrived. He needs it more than anyone in my realm.”

Loki said nothing to Freya’s quip. You and Freya were at a point in the pool where your toes barely touched the lake floor. Loki was tall enough that he stood, his shoulders and head well above the water’s surface and he showed no intention of going further or, god forbid, getting his hair wet.

“I see you’re working hard at practicing your magic today,” Loki said.

You scoffed. “She invited me here. I think I deserve it.”

Loki made a hum of judgment at you.

You would have crossed your arms if they weren’t currently being used to help you stay afloat. “At least I know how to have fun, instead of scowling at everything.”

“You think the god of _mischief_ doesn’t know how to have fun?”

“World domination doesn’t count.”

“Oh, but you haven’t tried it,” he spoke with a wink.

“Dropping me in mud doesn’t count either.”

“Dropping you in what?” Freya asked.

“I cleaned it off you,” Loki replied with mock offense, ignoring Freya’s inquiry.

You considered splashing him but dropped the idea because it would end up like the last time you tried to, with his face and hair dry as a bone. Except instead of mud you’d be swimming in enchanted freezing cold water or something.

“By the way, I rather like the green,” Loki changed tone, his playful teasing voice dropping to his sultry teasing one. “I hope I inspired that choice in attire.”

The thought that you were wearing Loki’s colors never crossed your mind. It never did even as he arrived in his signature green and gold.

As he said it, he also definitely stared at your chest. You felt like a sheep being eyed by the wolf.

“I gave her that,” Freya said.

“You have excellent taste, then.” His eyes flickered back to you as he said it. 

You began to wonder if he knew you were attracted to him and comments like this, along with the touches and the intimate staring, were another way of teasing you. He probably does and it’s exactly what you expect from someone like him. It has to be that, because the other option is that he’s flirting and you can’t fathom why he would be flirting with you. He acts like your existence is a burden to him more often than not.

The part of you kind of hoping that it’s flirting is just asking for humiliation. He’s a mean, conniving trickster god. _Remember that_, you tell yourself.

“So,” you said, turning to Freya, eager to move on from Loki’s ego boost. “You said when I first arrived here that half of all fallen warriors go to Valhalla, how does that work?”

“It’s an agreement between Odin and I.”

“Odin? Like Thor’s and,” you jabbed your thumb to Loki next to you. “His Father?”

She nodded. “Odin rules over Valhalla.”

“Yes,” Loki interjected. “And where I would be now if you would just allow me access.”

“Is that what you want to talk to Freya about?” you said.

“I took a gamble. I laid down my life and Thanos killed me. Half of all warriors are transported to Valhalla, the other half arrive here upon death. I had a plan involving Valhalla.”

He looked at Freya, his expression and tone flipped a switch. “A plan that could still work if you would _let me leave_.”

Freya smiled sadly but did not relent. “We’ve discussed this, Loki. Your time with the living has ended. You should rest now.”

Loki hit the water with his palm. It splashed up, which normally would have been comical if the person splashing it wasn’t angry and terrifying.

“What about me?” you asked. 

“If you find a way to undo your link to Loki, I will allow you to return to Earth,” Freya said.

“The human girl can, but I can’t? You know my plan, Freya. Thanos succeeded but his deeds can still be undone.”

“You are going to get the same answer from me every time, Loki.”

“The entire universe’s fate was determined by that madman and you’re going to keep me here for what? To lord your power over me?”

The tension was thick enough to reach out and weave through your fingers. Loki’s voice raised with his last sentence, and the nearby swimmers ceased their splashing and merrymaking to turn their attention to the discussion that was erupting into hostility. Loki stared the goddess down. Anyone else would cower under such fury. Freya however had courage and obstinance to equal his own.

“My decision isn’t about power or control,” she said calmly. “You should be grateful that you were killed and brought to the afterlife instead of being wiped from existence entirely.”

Freya stepped closer to the shore until the water clung to her knees. She gestured to you to follow. Her retreat was signaling an end to the discussion.

“You are making a mistake,” Loki called after her.

Her long blonde hair whipped around, she narrowed her eyes.

“Perhaps I will let you leave and you can fight your way out of Muspelheim.”

Loki balled his fists. A green energy began to form around them. Freya looked down at them, then back at him.

“Are you going to fight me?”

“If you continue to vex me, I just might.”

“Stop this,” she warned. For the first time, she sounded angry. Truly angry. But despite her anger she stood calmly, she would avoid confrontation at any cost.

In a flash, Loki teleported out of the water and onto the shore. Again he was in his regular black, green, and gold. But they weren’t the robes he usually wore; the shoulders were bigger. It was armored, much like his attire when he attacked New York. His emerald eyes burned.

Freya took in the sight of him and sighed. She too teleported to the shore, her beautiful blue swimsuit gone. She donned a white outfit with gold armor protecting her chest, arms, and legs.

“I cannot let you leave, Loki. I know after Valhalla it’s back to Midgard. If I allowed every person who enters my realm to go back to the living world there would be no more dead. Your soul must rest.”

“My soul,” he spat. “My soul? You have ignored every request of mine to leave even though I have given you compelling arguments. Do you want me to beg, Freya? I will not, though I am sure you would love to see me.”

The bright green light emanating from his fingertips grew brighter. It was a matter of time before it was set upon the person it was intended for. You as well as the Vikings swam back to shore, watching with you as the scene unfolded. The group of men you saw earlier having fun came up to Loki with intention. They put themselves between the angry trickster and Freya.

“You will not harm her,” the scariest looking of the five commanded. He spoke with a gruff voice.

With barely a lift of his finger, Loki cast a spell that suddenly lurched the men in the air and into the deeper part of the lake. An alarming amount of time passed before their heads popped above the water and into view. They coughed and spluttered. At this display of Loki’s ease at discarding them, many of the viewers began to make their way down the hill and out of harm’s way.

Freya got into an offensive stance. “You dare attack the people of my realm?”

“Aren’t I a resident, too, your majesty?” Loki asked with bitter sarcasm. “Would you hurt me?”

“I’m no queen. And by your actions you are certainly no king either. You disgrace Odin.”

Loki snarled and blasted the magical green energy from his fingertips toward Freya. You shrieked her name. You considered casting a spell to stop Loki, or distract him at the very least, but you knew that idea was futile. 

Thankfully, Freya dodged the spell Loki cast. Loki was well-versed in battle but Freya proved to have experience of her own. A golden light shimmered in her hands. The specks of light came together in a long, narrow line; an image formed from them until it became a longsword. Freya pointed the end of the mighty weapon at Loki. He responded by summoning two daggers, one in each hand.

Both Loki and Freya had speed and precision in their movements, not to mention deadly skill. You couldn’t bear the thought of a winner to this brawl because you weren’t sure if you could handle what the loser would look like after the fact. Each time one of the gods nearly landed a hit on the other you shouted or flinched. You screamed pleas for them to stop but they ignored you. You were forced to watch from a distance, otherwise you would become a casualty by magic or steel.

The goddess swung her sword out at Loki, who used his daggers to parry. When he found an opening due to her sword being two-handed, he would attempt to stab her, but her light feet allowed her for swift movements and she quickly corrected her stance so his daggers swiped thin air. It was a dance of defensive and offensive, Loki and Freya juggling both.

In the midst of the fight, Freya looked at you and the retreating, frightened people. She deflected another of Loki’s attacks. Her expression became calm. She stood still and her weapon disappeared in the same shimmer of golden light. Her muscles relaxed and in a second her appearance went transparent until she was visible no more. The goddess transported herself out of the fight. Loki cursed where Freya would have been a moment ago. After his outburst he created a portal to elsewhere in Folkvangr and stepped through. Along with the gods, any hint of a battle taking place vanished.

Alone at the top of the hill, the waterfall roared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy...


	7. Chapter 7

You blinked in stunned silence as you processed the battle that fizzled out. It was jarring to hear the clanging of sword on dagger and the grunts and shouts of two angered gods and then… nothing. But where did they go? Would Loki find Freya and continue the dispute elsewhere in the realm? You worried for each of their safety.

The day was still young and beautiful, but the idea of going back in the pool to swim didn’t feel right. Some Vikings ventured back up the hill once the danger had passed as you retreated down it and back to the hall. The combination of the minor hike, swimming, and watching such a stressful event left you famished.

After a quick meal, the search for the goddess turned up no luck. She wasn’t to be found in any of the common communal spots. If she was in her room you would never know because there was no answer when you knocked on her door, but she wasn’t the type to sulk after a fight. The whole of the realm was abuzz about the commotion between the two gods, some saying it was the most exciting thing to happen in Folkvangr in the last three hundred years. It was nearing night now, the pink and orange sky dulling into a dark purple. 

The realm is small, someone was bound to have seen her or Loki. While you asked around, many said they saw Loki wandering about in quite a mood and they were sure to steer clear of him. There was no mention of bloodshed anywhere. So while neither of the gods were hurt, Freya was still missing in action.

It was times like now that you wished phones were here. Everything is close enough that you could walk or teleport to the person you wanted to speak with, but it was so inconvenient when you didn’t know where to find them. A simple “hey where are you?” text would be a lifesaver.

There are ravens that fly around delivering messages, but they are so rarely needed and you didn’t know how to approach one. You also didn’t want a finger bitten off.

As you wandered down an area of Folkvangr hall you hadn’t yet explored, through a window you saw Loki below. Though you couldn’t see his face, his body language clearly spelled out pissed off. Your next thought was a bad idea, but Loki would know better than anybody where she might have gone.

When you came downstairs and outside, you heard grunts coming from the man who was taking his anger out on some trees outside. You watched one topple over, its weight bringing another tree down that was unfortunate enough to be in its fall path.

You approached Loki from the side. When you finally came in view of his peripherals his head turned to you.

“Leave, human,” he snarled.

“Where’s Freya?” you demanded.

“Freya,” he spat. “Has left Folkvangr.”

You considered what that meant. 

“Why? She didn’t get hurt, did she?” you asked.

Loki laughed an angry, spiteful laugh. You took a step back. “No, but don’t fret, she never leaves her realm for long.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“She is _fine_. Fled to keep her precious Vikings out of harm’s way.”

If what he said was true, you calmed a bit.

“Well, if she’s gone you can find a way to leave, then.”

“Don’t you see, girl? It’s impossible to leave without the wench’s blessing. A year’s research and I am no further along now than I was when I first arrived.” The look on his face was murderous.

“I don’t believe you’ve already given up.”

Loki stalked to you. The fury in his eyes alone could have killed you where you stood. He cocked his head to the side.

“Why do you care?”

“I know what it’s like to feel helpless.”

“I am not _helpless_,” he hissed.

“No, you’re not. That’s what I’m saying.” You were shaking and you hoped he couldn’t detect it. An angry god was towering over you and he could snap at any second. Why were you doing this?

“You’re not helpless,” you repeated. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, and I’m sorry Freya isn’t helping you. She should let you leave. I would help you if I could.”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” he said with gritted teeth.

“You should keep trying. I haven’t given up on my search for a spell to unbind me from you. You shouldn’t give up your search either, especially if what you say about your plan is true.”

Loki had a look like he was piecing you together. He reached his hand out and you froze. It dropped limp to his side.

He spoke for the first time without malice or anger: “Leave me, human,” his voice quiet.

An urge to comfort him in some way overcame you, but in his current mental condition any wrong move might set him off.

“Bye, then,” you muttered out of earshot, and back you returned to Folkvangr hall.

The next morning, unsure what to do with yourself since as far as you knew; magic lessons with Loki were postponed until he got his rage checked. Freya was still gone. You could always try befriending some Vikings, but you envisioned forty different ways that could go wrong. Instead, you decided to swing by the library. You pulled out the book you’d spotted when you first arrived. _The Major Houses of Asgard_, it was titled. Inside, you read the family histories of the Asgardian royal family. Some entries on notable rulers and members of the family caught your eye but you skimmed most. When you got to the current family, the house of Odin, you read each of their birth dates, their accomplishments, their personality traits.

First came Odin, then Frigga; his wife and Loki’s mother. In her portrait her eyes were kind, her smile warm. Out of instinct you could tell she was a loving woman. After her came Thor, the charismatic god of thunder and one of your favorite Avengers. Loki’s entry as the secondborn was last and included a picture of him as an adult, but considerably younger. His hair was gelled back and barely reached lower than his ears. Each portrait was painted accurately enough that it could easily fool one into thinking it was a photograph. Under Loki’s arm held his golden horned helmet. There was a gleam of pride and happiness in his eyes. The man in the picture was completely different from the man you were getting to know. What happened to turn him so angry and fearsome?

You barely started on the paragraph below when the man in question spoke behind you.

“Reading up on your history?”

You jumped and shut the book out of reflex. The tug in your chest might actually be useful if it warned you of Loki’s presence before he tried to scare you because no matter how many times he did it, it was going to get you every time. Loki raised an eyebrow and the book reopened to the exact page you were on. His hands clasped behind his back, he came closer, trapping you between the table and himself as he looked over your shoulder. His head bent down, inches next to your face to snoop at what you’d been reading.

“Why read a book on my family when I am a primary source on it?”

You scooted away from him so you could breathe. “Because any time I ask you something I’m either teased or I don’t get a straight answer.”

He pointed at his chest. “God of lies.”

You rolled your eyes. You proceeded to ask your questions anyway.

“Are you really a thousand years old?”

“Yes.”

“How old are you here?” you pointed to the portrait of Loki in the book.

He examined it before speaking. “Eight hundred, maybe. I don’t remember.”

You looked between Loki and the portrait of him in the book. He eyed you quizzically. You blushed under his gaze.

“Well?” he said.

“Well what?”

“Something is on your mind, are you going to spit it out?”

You sighed, talking more to the picture than to him, not noticing that you traced your finger over his image on the page as you did so. “You look so happy here.”

Loki quirked an eyebrow. “...And?”

You shut the book. “What happened? You seemed so innocent there.” 

“I can assure you I was far from innocent,” he said, a mischievous tone behind his smile. 

“You know what I mean.”

He almost sighed. “Not today, human.”

“...And your brother and parents.”

You wanted to say more but you at the mention of them something changed in Loki’s body language. Quickly, you changed subjects.

“Sorry. You said Freya will be back soon?”

“Yes. She never leaves for long. In the meantime, I am spending as much time possible finding out how to leave, ideally before she returns.”

He really is set on leaving, then.

“To Valhalla?”

“Yes.”

You nodded solemnly.

“What?” he asked.

“When you leave, I guess I’ll die, or wither away, or however it works. Before I came here, I just wanted a fresh start. That’s all I wanted. And then this happened.”

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed briefly. “Start over?”

“The Snap. It took my family, my friends. I was miserable.” 

You blinked away tears before they had a chance to fall. “I was going to get away from all that and move away from the painful memories. I guess I’m stuck here, and when you leave, whatever comes after that.”

There was silence in the library for a time as your words hung in the air. You expected Loki to pity you or more likely, leave. 

He spoke quietly. “Keep searching for the unbinding spell. In the meantime, train with me this afternoon.” 

You nodded. When you were sure he was gone, you opened the heavy book back to the page with the entry on Loki. You roamed over the features of a man who had yet to face an unnamed hell.

\---

Instead of meeting in the fields just outside the palace, you met Loki in the courtyard. Similar to the garden in that it had trees and bushes of flowers all around, it also had stone benches, statues of people you did not know the identities of, a few tables for eating, and a large space you and Loki could practice some magic.

Instead of teaching you anything new, Loki had you review the spells you have already been taught. Everything went by smoothly, except when you attempted to summon the last of a list of items from thin air.

The last thing to summon was a raven. You had grown rather adept at summoning spells, but as you pictured the bird in your mind you became distracted by the wind blowing papers out of the hands of a woman leaving the courtyard to go back indoors. You realized your mistake at not concentrating too late when a gust of wind whooshed underneath you, propelling you into the air. Recollection of any kind of magic that might save you or cushion your fall went blank. You screamed as you came plummeting down, and rather than colliding with the hard ground of the cement of the courtyard floor, you were caught in Loki’s arms. Bridal style.

Dazed, hair messy, heart pumping, you looked up at the god who was not hiding any aspect of the fact that your blunder amused him. You blushed not only at the fact that he was making fun of you and the words just hadn’t left his mouth yet, but also the fact that he was still holding you. And gingerly at that. He didn’t drop you and let your ass hit the hard floor like you half thought he might. 

“I have never seen a summoning spell backfire like that, human. What in the realms were you thinking of?”

You thought about how ridiculous you must have looked right now, and how your screams sounded as you were thrown into the air. Giggles bubbled in your chest. Loki let you have your laugh. Afterward there was silence as the two of you looked at one another while not knowing what to say next. The feel of the bond and butterflies in your stomach from both your fall and the man holding you felt like an adrenaline rush. You wanted to touch his face. For a moment, the way his head hovered so close to yours, you thought he might kiss you. 

No, that’s ridiculous.

“Thank you for catching me,” you said, finally remembering your words.

The amusement sapped from his features and he put you back down. 

“It was nothing,” he replied.

You had pretty much become accustomed to Loki’s emotional whiplash, but this was just… different. Being mischievous one moment and angry the next, fine, you expected that from him. But now, being mischievous but cold and distant. What was up with him?

You tried your hand at summoning a raven again, this time not allowing outside events to affect you. The dark bird squawked at the pair of you, then flew toward a nearby tree. Loki gave you quiet near-praise or emotionless criticism, which was odd, given he loved to tell you how wrong you were getting it.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, needing some kind of conversation.

“And what is that?”

“If you don’t want to answer, just say you don’t. I’ll understand, just don’t blow up on me.”

Loki quirked an eyebrow, but you took it as a signal to continue.

“Why did you attack Earth?”

“I thought it was obvious. I wanted to rule Midgard.”

“Yes, but _why_?”

“It’s a long story that I think you’d rather not hear. Old news. Boring, really.”

You sat down on a bench. “I’m sure it’s not.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’ve been getting to know you these past weeks.” You remembered the portrait of young (well, younger) Loki, the Loki with bright eyes who seemed to have a future ahead of him, but you didn’t mention that. “I’m just trying to understand, that’s all. But if you don’t want to, I won’t ask again.”

A moment of quiet passed before Loki began his tale.

“I met Thanos. Met is a generous word. More accurately: he found me and tortured me. When I proved my worth to him he gave me an infinity stone so I could use it to gain him a second one, the Tesseract, the Space Stone. In return I would rule Earth. After that, you know the rest.”

You screwed up your eyebrows. “But what was Earth to you? Why would you even want it?”

“I was never going to be Asgard’s king.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your voice went up an octave. “So you thought you would come and enslave my planet?”

“I was hardly going to rule Jotunheim, the wasteland…” he muttered.

“Jotunheim?” you fumbled with the name.

“I’m Jotun, not Asgardian.”

You gave Loki a look as if you were supposed to know what that means. He looked away in disgust. He crossed his arms before he spoke again.

“I am not Thor’s brother, I am not Odin and Frigga’s son. Not by blood.” He was pained to continue. “For a millennia I was led to believe I was second in line for the throne. Instead I’m a monster, a freak.”

“I don’t understand…”

His hurt was palpable. You knew he had a story. This was deeper than anything you expected. You wanted to understand, you did. What did he mean by freak? Was it his magic? No. Magic was common on Asgard, Loki said so himself. The fact that he was willing to divulge this much information was unanticipated.

“Jotuns,” the god sneered. “Are a race of frost giants. Tall, terrible creatures fueled by greed and hate and violence that live on a planet as unwelcoming as they. Asgardian children are told the stories of the frightening beasts who hate Asgard and its prosperity. I discovered I am the son of the king of those monsters. Odin took me as a child to protect a feeble treaty between the two realms.”

Loki’s eyes appeared glassy. He did not look at you. You weren’t sure if he waited for your response, or if he was stuck somewhere inside himself. Was it safe to pull him back out? The faint rise and fall of his chest was the only indication he was not one of the courtyard’s statues.

You weighed every detail he told you carefully in your mind. Of course, you wouldn’t understand all of it; Asgard was an entirely different world. And Loki, Loki was tangled up in the ugly side of its politics.

The urge to want to comfort him again arose. But words could never undo a lifetime of trauma. The best you could do was try.

“How long did you think you were Asgardian?”

“Centuries,” he uttered.

“Centuries you thought you were Asgardian, but all that time Odin let you grow up believing your own heritage is a race of monsters?”

There was no confirmation by him verbally. You stood up and tentatively placed your hand on his, not caring about how the bond might affect you. Finally, his eyes found their way back to you.

“What did you do?”

“Thor was banished to Earth just before the truth was laid out to me. Odin fell sick and I took the throne. In my rage, I sought to destroy Jotunheim, the world so hated by my people. When Thor returned to Asgard we fought. When Odin finally recovered, I realized I would never be accepted by him. I left.”

You wanted to cry for him.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t even… begin to imagine what that must have been like. What it is like. Your father was cruel to do such a thing to you.”

“Yes, well, I was always his second-favorite. I should have been used to it.”

“Loki…”

Loki wriggled his hand away out of your grasp. He distanced himself from you by taking a step back. You frowned at his words and his sudden reservedness. You thought it was the end of the conversation and maybe even the lesson, but Loki spoke again.

“I may have found a way to leave Folkvangr and get to Valhalla.”

Your frown deepened at his change in subject. There was obviously more, much more, he needed to heal from, but you didn’t press it. The thought of him having found a way to get to the other realm of fallen warriors intrigued you.

“I may require you for it to work,” Loki continued.

“Well, good. I wasn’t going to let you leave while I’m still bonded to you.”

He seemed surprised.

“You really think I was gonna stay here and mope around? If I had to fight you to make you take me with, I would have.”

He almost smiled. “I can kill you easily, but I don’t doubt you would try.”

“Yes, I would try, and I don’t doubt you can kill me,” you grinned. “When are we leaving?”

“Before Freya returns.”


End file.
